Renegade
by MisguidedGhostWriter
Summary: Unbeknownst to him, the Master left a bit more behind on Earth then destruction. His daughter has spent nearly a century alone, and she's almost given up hope that she would ever know the truth about her real family. Can a certain Captain and a certain Doctor help her?
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks for clicking on this my lovely readers! I've been batting around this idea for awhile, and I hope you all enjoy this. Note, that this fic will go to some rather sad places, but also sweet ones as well. So, warning, feels dead ahead. Also note that this is still in the editing process.**

**Finally, I don't own Doctor Who or Torchwood. Trust me I've checked. Enjoy!**

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_'Where Rene asks nicely, Ianto takes a nap, and Jack is a sweetheart.'_

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When I was eight, I found out that I was both adopted, and scientifically impossible.

When I was nine, I ran away in search of the truth.

When I was ten, I died, and came back as an adult.

when I was eleven, I decided that rules were stupid, and that by simply existing I broke most of them.

Life has been a game ever since. One that I was eager to cheat at.

0o0o0

I love government organizations. They are so full of _themselves,_ thinking that they can only loose by the hand of an organization bigger than them. Of course they tend not to notice, nor defend against, the one-man space crafts that sail into their weakest points to exploit what they've missed. They are far too high and mighty to worry over such things.

I'm that one-man space craft. My name is Rene, or at least, that's the name I chose, as I could hardly go by my old title after I changed my face, so many years ago. I have chosen to spend my whole life in search of information.

Today I'm searching in Torchwood. Torchwood Three to be precise. The head of which is a mister Captain Jack Harkness, real name unknown. Torchwood is a relatively small organization with no more than five members employed by the company at a time, which makes it quite an oddity when compared to other, larger organizations such as UNIT or MI5.

I had briefly studied the Torchwood crew in some documents pulled from the CIA who kept a surprising amount of intel on the subject. As for why they did, I could hardly guess. Perhaps America was planning to start their own branch? I was keeping an eye on the subject myself. But, anywho, Thier intel had left me with a basic understanding of what I was dealing with, enough to get in, get what I was looking for, then get out.

I arrived at a small, almost dinky looking building, where the entrance to the underground 'hub' was said to be.

My attire consisted of a pair of worn, old jeans with holes in the knees that revealed the neon leggings poking through. I wore a warm violet coat with several buttons and a polar fleece scarf. The coat was more billowy than bulky, but was still large enough to hide my concealed pistol, pocket knife, and a few bits and tricks I had nabbed from my earlier raid through UNIT's storage vaults. My curly brown hair bounced around my shoulders freely, and it well hid my excess of 'emergency bobby pins' that were beneath my locks. I had warm fleece gloves over my hands which held a little secret of their own.

I did my best to look innocent as I knocked on the door of the building. It was six AM and from the research I had done there would only be two people at the organization at this time, Ianto Jones and Captain Jack. The others would show up an hour later at the earliest, so I had to be out before then. Also, I would have to be very careful here if they caught me, they couldn't know that I wasn't fully human. They would consider me alien if they did, then I would be theirs.

A man answered the door, I knew his name to be Ianto. I noted the shape of a gun under his shirt, first line of security it seemed. He wore a smile and had one hand on his wallet as if he were expecting to have to pay for something. Most likely he was expecting a pizza delivery, or whatever takeout humans eat for breakfast.

His smile slipped to confusion when he saw me.

"May I help you?" He asked professionally. He didn't seemed alarmed, and why should he? I appeared to be what in this body? Seventeen at the oldest?

"Are you Mister Ianto Jones?" I asked with a dazzling smile, "my names Rene, I'm very glad to meet you!"

I reached out my gloved hand and he frowned before confusedly shaking it.

"Yes, why...are" He didn't get any further than that before he fell in a heap at my feet, victim to my anesthetic gloves. Satisfied with my work, I stepped around him, closing the door and nabbing a jacket that was hanging off a chair and throwing it over the man like a blanket. I pulled my glove off and slipped it into my pocket before placing my bare fingers to the sleeping mans neck. His pulse was normal for a sleeping human, his breathing was low and steady. He'd be fine in an hour, and from the bags beneath his eyes, a little nap would do him some good. I poked around in his pocket next and managed to find his security pass, which would serve as my ticket in.

Next, I stood and from my pocket I drew my tech scrambler, a little metal pipe that temporarily blocked all internet and broadcasting equitment in the area, making it only assessable with use of a code that could only be given by the tech scrambler itself. I started it up, listening to the satisfying buzz that reverberated from the device. The lights flickered at the invisible pulse. Good, I had control of the system and all communications now. All I needed was a computer with the data I required.

There was a computer in the upper room, but it was unlikely that I would find what I needed there. No, the real info would be below.

I pulled from my hap harzard, always shifting mind, a map of Torchwood that I had studied beforehand. Just an image really, nothing more than a memory, but the map was clear in my head as if I was holding it I front of me.

Next I walked easily for the hub entrance, scanning Ianto's card on the almost hidden scanner on the wall, and sweeping the tech scrambler over it to make it work.

0o0o0

"Eep!" I made a mad dash for what I hoped to be the main room, narrowly escaping what seemed to be a pterodactyl swooping down to eat me. Okay, I was not expecting that one. The CIA didn't know everything apparently...

Soon I reached the main room, breathing somewhat heavily from the shock of nearly being Dino-chow. What I saw in the room didn't calm me down.

Before me I saw the computers, they were quite elaborate and secure looking, and I couldn't wait to crack them. A wild grin spread across my childish features as I bounced for the system. My heartbeats sped, and my hands shook. This could be it. I could finally learn what I was! I could finally figure out who my parents were, where my home planet was and everything else! Maybe I could go home. Whatever information explained my family was wiped from every data base everywhere. But everybody said, if I was looking for sacred information that no one should know, this, Torchwood, was the only place that could have it.

It took a lot of planning, and lying, and cheating, and pain to get here. But hopefully, it would all pay off.

I sat in the computer chair, activating the devices before me with a wave of my Tech Scrambler. The computers zipped to life and I began searching, digging through files and taking care not to disturb any of the systems and programs that were on them, as Torchwood's computer expert, Tosh, had obviously put quite a bit of heart and time into the system. It would be cruel of me to destroy any of it. Cruel was something I strived to never be. Cocky, and annoying sure, but never cruel.

I managed to find a database with every listed alien that Torchwood had happened upon. I typed in some key words first, 'two hearts' 'changing faces' 'natural telepath' 'humanoid' and 'natural hypnotist'. But as my hand hovered over the 'enter' key, I froze. Someone was right behind me and closing in. I could feel it.

Naturally, my instincts threw me off the computer chair. My feet hit the floor and I turned to face a man, taking a calm, ready to run, stance. Captain Jack Harkness stood silently, not moving to draw his gun, but with his hand placed causually over it.

Several emotions danced on his face, a hint of anger, a dash of curiosity, a bit of amusement, and equal parts annoyance and something like shock that I couldn't quite place.

But I could hardly focus on that because he was weird. Something seemed to bend around him and distort his very being in a way that I couldn't describe. He seemed to almost glow with a golden energy, but if I tilted my head correctly, the glow would stop. He felt just so off. Something in my mind whispered 'impossible,' 'dangerous,' and 'absolute.' Something in my mind told me that this strange man was a fact. An unchangable...thing. And his unchangable thingyness was giving me a headache.

"So," the absolute man spoke with a certain charm, "do you want to tell me why you're here before I arrest you?"

My heart sunk, a stabbing pain hit me in the gut, I had failed, and I felt like I was going to cry. But instead I switched into plan B. Asking nicely.

I pressed my hands firmly in my pockets so he couldn't see that they were shaking and I grinned. "Oh," I said happily, "is this your agency? I apologize for the intrusion, have to look up a few things then I'll be right out of your hair, ya? My names Rene by the way! Hello!" I gave him a little wave before turning back to the computer, my long coat dancing about my feet in a flurry. I brought my hand to a rest over my firearm in a way that I'm sure he noticed.

The man raised his brow, I felt his hand on my shoulder as he spun me around to face him, "you sneak into my organization, drug my assistant, hack my computers, than just expect me to let you gather data and run? I don't think so." He glared and I switched into plan C.

The man was immortal, if the records were true. I should simply shoot him and run, he'd be out long enough for me to escape.

However...if I wanted the information, one way or another I would have to stay, as there was no chance in me getting back in after this. Maybe plan C should be to allow him to capture me. But I'd be at the disadvantage of being a prisoner, and therefore not at liberty to demand information. But I might get something.

Maybe I hadn't thought this out all the way.

I needed to know. This was my last chance. I could die here, easily, in the hands of government alien hunters. But I was utterly alone in the universe, I had nearly lost the game. What would it matter if I did die here?

I took a deep breath, "right," I sighed, "I should have expected as much. If it makes any difference, sir, I surender. And ask, as your...prisoner," I chocked on the word , never once had I willingly became someone's prisoner, I didn't like it. "please, I'm asking, give me the information I need." I stared at his energy distorted form, feeling too dizzy to try to hypnotize him into doing what I wanted, and instead boring my blue eyes into his own. I tried to translate my one hundred or so years of life, and pain, and want, and desperation to know who I was into my gaze. I tried to let him know that all I wanted was to learn.

The man sighed, "hand over your weapons and have a seat. I'll help you kid, but only because you remind me of someone."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor who! On to the story!**

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_Where Jack asks questions, Rene is dramatic, and the team shows up_

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I almost wrapped the absolute man in a flying hug, and I would have to, if I weren't more or less being taken into his custody and was in the process of handing over all my weapons.

The man still had his hand on his gun, and I said very calmly to him, "will I get my stuff back?" Ugh, that was the thing about this young body, tempered with teenage angst and a liking for material possessions. But I still had to know.

The man tilted his head, "maybe if you cooperate."

I frowned, if this went wrong I would have to steel my stuff back, going quietly was still an experimental thing to me, and I was likely to jump ship at first sign of trouble. I drew my gun, keeping my finger away from the trigger and holding it over the desk, pointed away from both of us. Jack watched me carefully as I let the mag fall to the desk and popped the bullet in the chamber. I presented my gun to him, showing the man that it was clear. He took it from me.

"Nice nine millimeter." He said, observing my gun and holding the cool metal grip. "What's its name?"

"Lori." I responded instantly, keeping the worried knot that had formed in my throat out of my voice.

"Ah. I'll take care of her. Don't you worry." He assured.

I gritted my teeth to keep my lip from quivering and brought out my knife next, handing it over to the Captain, and with it another level of control. Then I put down my gloves, which could still knock a person out if brought in contact with the skin, I told Jack not to touch the fingertips. Last I relinquished a can of pepper spray.

"That's all my weapons." I informed truthfully.

"Your scrambler as well. I would like my communications back." Jack said. "Also any other alien tech you may have brought with you. Or just tech in general, hand over your phone too."

I had to actively try not to bolt for the door, as I was now beginning to feel cornered and small and claustrophobic. I fidgeted a bit, but dumped my pockets on the desk. Bits and pieces of metal greeted the desk top and mixed into the array of foreign technology was my phone and tangled earbuds.

Jack nodded, he moved to my side and took my coat, which I shrugged off with no protest. No protest to him at least. On the inside I was begging myself not to stay as the feeling of being trapped slowly began to eat at me. I hoped my fear wasn't showing.

I made no sudden moves as the government agent gathered my things, restored his systems with a flick of my scrambler, and walked my items across the room, placing them neatly in a nearby desk drawer before locking it with a code that I easily caught by watching his hand flick across the buttons. Nine seven four two one six. I let out a small breath of relief, I knew the code, and however small, that was still some control of the situation.

He returned and gestured to a chair that was pulled up next to the computer.

"You can sit now." He informed.

I complied. Taking to looking at the distorted man eagerly and occupying my mind with what I would learn rather than my suffocating situation.

"Now," the man began, sitting in the computer chair next to me and speaking as if I were the kid I looked like, and at the moment, felt like, rather than the impossible adult my true age would suggest. "Before I decide to give you any information, I'm going to have to question you. It's standard practice for prisoners. We can do it here, and now, or I can take you to a cell until my usual interrogator gets here. Your choice."

Eighty three years of life and the most frightening thing I could possibly imagine was a jail cell. I near had a panic attack simply thinking about it.

Once more I fidgeted, "I'll answer whatever you ask me." I said quietly.

"Truthfully?" The man clarified, I saw in his eyes a certain worry for me. Possibly the worry was because I didn't seem the type to give up too easy and my whole 'doing as he says' thing seemed suspicious. If so, he was right to suspect. I was doing this because I had to know, not because I didn't have my choice of escaping.

I nodded, "truthfully." I said. That was a lie of course. I would answer truthfully to a point. If his question crossed too many lines, I would have no trouble fudging the truth or playing dumb, or even making things up if I had to.

"Right. First question, what's your name?" His hands flew over the keyboard as he spoke, he opened a search engine of sorts along with a word document to keep track of my answers.

"Rene." I said simply.

"Rene..." He prompted.

"Just Rene. It's the name I chose, and the name I stay with."

Jack looked skeptical, but recorded my response, then asked, "How long ago did you choose the name?"

I looked at him smugly, "seventy three years ago. Almost to the date."

The man frowned, but wrote down the response. "How old are you?"

"At the moment, I have three ages, I could be any of them, depending on how you look at it." I said offhandedly, observing my fingernails with a bored expression for effect.

"Give me all three of them. And the reasons why you have them." The man didn't seem overly surprised like I was hoping. It was always fun to tell humans things about myself and watch them squirm in confusion. But Jack...he seemed to be desensitized to weird things. That was no fun.

I sighed, "Well, this body is four years old. Although, I look around eighteen." Alright, I looked more seventeen or sixteen, but anyway, "So four and eighteen would be my first two ages. As for how long I've existed as a consciousness, that would be eighty three years. Next question?" I sat criss cross in the chair, trying hard to keep my cool.

"So you've changed bodies. How many times have you done that?"

"Twice." I said slyly.

He recorded. "Right, what species are you? Don't try telling me your human, because your not."

This struck a cord. I looked at him with my eyes cold, "You know I'm not human? Good. Than you know as much as I do on the subject, maybe more. Your guess is as good as mine."

"So you don't know?"

I sighed, exasperated, "Nope." I popped the 'p'.

I could hear him type out my response. "Right, so, why are you here?"

I couldn't help but glare. Our conversation thus far should have told him exactly why I was here, looking through the alien database at a secure government building, with no knowledge of what I was. Of course if his question was 'so that's why you came here, to discover who you are' that would have given me the perfect out if that weren't the truth. He was just covering his bases.

"You have to ask? I want to learn about who I am. This is the last place I can possibly think to search."

He nodded knowingly, typing my response.

The interrogation continued on, questions about my current alliances-nobody-where I was living-motel rooms, mostly-past work I had done-worked in a shop for awhile, with occasional hacking jobs preformed for the highest bidder-and other things of that nature. Jack was careful to ask only tame questions, nothing that went over the line too much. Something that I was thankful for. But I knew he was waiting to address the big things, such as how I changed faces, and bits about my biology or family.

Soon we were interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the team.

Jack had just asked me about my tech scrambler and where it came from, and I was about to spurt my first lie of the interview, when the door opened.

"Jack," came a female voice, "Ianto's not at his station, and...who's that?"

Jack gave a charming smile and stood to greet Gwen, keeping an eye on me the entire time of course, "Morning Gwen. This," he gestured to me, "Is Rene, the eighteen year old girl who walked through our security this morning. Ianto's fine by the way, sleeping in my bed."

Gwen raised her brow and smiled slyly but said little on the his comment. "How'd she get in?" She asked finally.

This left me smiling as I waited for the befuddlement that came with stories of my master hacking skills and near flawless operation, which included evading becoming a crazed dinosaurs lunch. But it never came.

"I'll explain later." Jack the party pooper informed. "Has Owen arrived yet?"

Gwen nodded, "yes,"

At this I tensed, Owen was Torchwood's chief medical examiner, a doctor of sorts. Me and my impossible biology tried to avoid people in the medical field at all costs, plus I, and any sane person in my opinion, hated medical offices. They made my stomach turn.

"Good, call him in and have him give Rene a medical exam, I want a full report." Jack ordered.

I clenched my teeth as if the action would defend me. Gwen nodded and left to go find Owen.

This left me alone with Jack, and no information that would be given in the immediate future. Had he tricked me? Did I put too much faith in a man who wasn't really going to help me, just take me as a prisoner? Despite myself, I did feel hurt.

I looked him in the eyes with all my hurt and heartsbreak. "So, I suppose the deal is off then?" I asked quietly, passing my glance to the computer that almost told me who I was, that almost fixed my life. I suppose I didn't deserve to know anyway. I was too tricky, too young even with my age, and too damn emotional. I brought my knees to my chest, perching myself on the computer chair and studying the floor.

Jack sighed, "kid, I usually am one for dramatics myself," I could hear the smirk in his voice, "but really it's uncalled for. You'll get your information, I just want to be fairly certain of a few things before I help." He put a hand on my shoulder, restoring some of my hope and helping my now swirling emotions to calm.

The door opened again, and i looked up to see a rather grumpy looking man walking in.

I found myself mere minutes later being walked from the room.

**Alright, chapter two is up! I'm worried I made Rene a bit too angsty, but I'm just giving her as a character a solid emotional state to stand on that I can build on throughout the story, by the end of this all she'll be more adult. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Ownership is an illusion. And within the bounds of said illusion, I have no ownership of Doctor Who or Torchwood.**

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_'Where Rene plays a trick, Owen is the victim, and Jack phones a friend.'_

* * *

I've always had mixed feelings about hallways. Sometimes they were grand things leading to unknown places that contained mysteries beyond my comprehension. Sometimes they were interesting things with items and blemishes lying about that told some elaborate story about the people who had built and walked through it in the past. But sometimes they were cold, oppressive things that loomed overhead and restricted freedom and movement.

The ones in Torchwood were of the 3rd variety. Vast underground passages stretched into an oblivion, they were constructed of metal and the turns were sharp. There were no windows.

Owen walked, towering somewhat oppressively behind me. There was no way I could run, well, not without doing some hypnosis work, which could get me in trouble. If I wanted that information, then I was completely trapped. That thought made me feel sick.

"You're shaking." Owen observed quietly.

"Ya." I confirmed.

No more was said until we reached Torchwood's infirmary. I recoiled as we entered the room. The walls and the cabinets, and the floors were painted white, and I had to squint against the brightness. The lights above were fluorescent, and emitted a buzz. What wasn't white was a cold metallic, sharp medical tools, and a metal examination table greeted me. The only exception to this rule was a small wooden cup on one of the cabinets. It was painted blue and filled with lollipops. That had to be a joke, right? I felt myself glaring at the candy. It was a sick joke. I hated hospitals.

"Sit up on the examination table." Said Owen professionally, his voice was quiet and intense, he had a soothing accent. I did as he asked, clenching my hands into fists to stop the tremble in them. My stomach felt tight. I felt out of control and small. I hated it here. My lip started quivering. No no no, I couldn't have an anxiety attack. My newest body was all shaky and claustrophobic sometimes.

'I'm stuck here. I'm trapped. I'm doomed. I'm going to die here.' The thoughts ran through my head making me feel dizzy. I wanted to scream, or cry or curl up into a ball.

Owen asked me a variety of basic health questions first, interspersed with more unusual inquiries; my planet of origin, experience with the rift and time travel, and whether or not I was involved with universe hopping. I answered the questions to the best of my abilities, trying to hide any sign about how scared I was.

At one point, he tilted his head, "Do you have any phobias?" He asked.

"Terrified of clowns." I joked.

He wrote my response down before moving on.

When he was finished with the questions, he grabbed a small device from a cabinet top. It looked a bit like one of those old bulky cell phones with a button system and an antenna.

"Hold out your arms." he said.

"Why?" I asked, not trusting the device.

"Well, I'd like a full report on your biology. If you'd like to make it out of here without major surgery, then you need to hold out your arms."

I frowned, but did what he asked. He waved the object over me and it made a shrill beeping sound, a little light on the end of it flashed red at a seizure-inducing frequency. When he was done, he took the object and plugged it into a 3D projector. I was impressed at Torchwood's tech, as I hadn't seen a 3D projector outside of an MI5 base.

On the wall appeared a map of my body, as well as a list of vital signs and a wall of code in what looked to be another language. I couldn't make much of the medical jargon out, but Owen seemed to have no trouble reading it.

"what's the verdict?" I asked, fiddling my fingers nervously.

"You have two hearts, and a respiratory bypass system. You're prone to anxiety and likely to develop depression later, but have no major mental health issues as of now. You give off an unusual amount of psychic energy, and nearly all of your neurotransmitters and hormones are significantly different from the ones that humans have, although they appear to work in the same way. Your mind works at a much higher capacity than humans, and your apear to be a member of a psychic species. Also, you're developing a cold, I recommend boosting your vitamin C intake."

"Great." I muttered, shifting on my seat, "can I go now?" I was really starting to hate this office.

Owen didn't respond right away. He pushed a button on the projector. "Hold on, let me send this information to Jack." He said.

I waited, tapping my fingers on the metal table. when the man turned off the projector, I tried again. "Can we go now?" I asked.

Owen got a crooked smile on his face before reaching over to the little wooden cup and offering me a red lollipop. I regarded it with suspicion. It could be poisoned, or drugged, or strawberry. All terrible options, really. "Why?" I asked.

"You've been a good patient, lollipops are standard practice." he said.

With some hesitation, and reached out for the lollipop. I would maybe eat it later. But as I reached out, he moved, slipping a metal bracelet over my hand and pulling it tight before I could pull away,

"Hey!" I pulled my hand back in surprize and glared at the man, "What the hell is that?" I demanded, waving the bracelet at him.

"It's a tracker." He shrugged, "Also standard practice. The metal can't be broken, so don't even try it. I'm the only one who can take it off. If you leave the base, we'll know."

I was pissed. In a swoop of my hand I grabbed the lollipop from Owen, then I jumped from the table marched over to door. "Let's just get back to Jack you bloody arse hole." I grumbled, sauntering into the hallway.

Owen followed behind me, keeping tab.

"So," He said after about a minute of walking, "How _did_ you break into the base?"

I actually smiled at that, "Through the front door." I shrugged, "Your security systems are bloody awful. I had a tougher time breaking into the CIA, and their security is crap."

Owen didn't respond.

"You're pterodactyl was a bit of a challenge, but I got past it with relative ease." I shrugged, looking back at him with a smug expression. But I frowned when helooked unimpressed.

I spent the rest of the walk fiddling with the tracker on my wrist.

When we got back to the main part of the hub, I noticed something that wasn't there before. It was a blue police box standing tall by the nearest doorway, I broke off from Owen and walked around the thing, perplexed.

"Hey, kid," Owen said, reaching to take my hand. I slipped out of his grip with ease and reached for the door on the box. It wouldn't budge. "Wrong way." Owen went to grab my hand again, this time pulling it tight and dragging me away.

"Jerk! Let me go!" I protested. Wait what was I doing? I had contact with him now! I stopped walking and focused on making a link with Owen's mind. The man relaxed and stopped walking as well. I smiled. "I'm going to go look at the blue box." I said softly. "Let me go." The man did as I asked and I slipped away from his grip, walking to the box.

But, as I did I heard a 'THUMP' and I turned around in a flurry. Owen had passed out. Oops. Oh well. My footstep echoed through the hub as I went to examine the blue box. The box seemed to be humming, but not an annoying hum like the fluorescent lights, but a calming, kind hum of energy and life. The box felt alive.

"Uh, hi." I greeted. Talking to seemingly inanimate object. "You weren't here before, where'd you come from?" I asked it.

The box, or, the 'Police Public Call Box' as the top of it read, didn't respond.

"You know," A man's voice boomed behind me, making me freeze, "that's the second one of my agents that you've knocked out today. You're not going to make this a regular thing, are you?"

I turned slowly to face Captain Jack. "Um" I had a sheepish smile on my face, "Regular is a relative term, really. In the grand scheme of things, the only regular thing is change." I babbled. Then I frowned. Next to Jack was another man. He looked older with grey hair and rather angry eyebrows. He wore a velvet jacket and a pair of sunglasses. He was looking at me critically. I blinked when I saw the other man and gave him an awkward wave. "Uh, hi." said to the strange man.

The stage man raised his eyebrow at me.

"Rene," Said Jack calmly, "meet the Doctor."

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**Have a chapter 3! Any reviews posted will be responded to at the end of the next chapter.**

**~_Responding to my fan mail~_**

**Bleuboxes: Thank you! I've been playing with first person, it can be quite interesting if done right. It just takes practice!**

**Guest 1: Thank you so much! I think the 'Master's daughter' idea could be used really well, and I wish here were more fics with the concept!**

**Guest 2: Wish granted! Thank you for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh wow, when did I last work on this? Oh…a year ago. Heh…well here's another chapter! I don't own Doctor Who or Torchwood.**

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_Where the Doctor is elusive, Rene is a brat, and Jack is an adult_

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I've met many doctors in my day. Surgeons, cardiologists, immunologists, ophthalmologists, psychiatrists, pediatricians, and more, but I have never met a doctor who had the guts to go around calling himself THE Doctor, as if all the others were fakes, or copycats. The awkwardness I had felt a mere second ago melted into a steely resolve. I was still quite upset by the tracker, and I was done with Jack's games.

I frowned at the Doctor, returning the critical gaze he was throwing my way with my own bout of distrust.

"Oh what Jack," I sighed, not taking my eyes off the strange man. "One Doctor wasn't enough?" I asked, gesturing my tracker clad hand to Owen, who was still passed out on the floor. "I said I wanted information, not a medical exam. You promised." I accused.

Jack only chuckled. I didn't dare look at him, and his impossible, puke inducing absoluteness. I just kept my eyes on the Doctor, who hadn't stopped staring at me.

I took a step toward the man, making it a point to radiate power with my body stance and my aura. "I didn't read about you in Torchwood's files, so I assume you're, what, Unit? Maybe MI5?" I accused, returning the man's critical stare.

"You assumed wrong." The Doctor said, taking a step toward annoyed interrogator like exterior melted immediately, I wanted to take a step back, but I held my ground. The Doctor was…off. He was in a word, inhuman.

Perhaps I should explain. I have a certain power about me. I can manipulate the emotions of the room around me and effect people on a psychic level. If I focus, I can make the strongest of humans cower and hide with my mere presence. It's a nifty little trick that has gotten me out of thousands of situations. But here's the thing, if my aura was equated to the sun, the Doctor's was equated to Sirius, the Dog Star, a celestial body which is approximately 20 times brighter than Earth's sun.

"Well then, who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my nerve.

"Just the Doctor." The man cracked a smile, and produced a small gadget. He scanned me with it, it made a soft humming sound. "And you are…" He studied the device. "Definitely not human. And…oh, very interesting. Hmm." He spoke with a mix of confusion and almost taunting giddiness. "It seems you were right, Jack. Well anyway, goodbye, I have much more important things to do then sit around with you lot." He began to walk toward the blue box.

"W-wait." I felt disoriented, and I followed him a few paces. "Do you…know what I am?"

"Oh yes, absolutely." The man said matter-of-factly, "Bye." He opened the door to the box.

"Hey!" I stepped into the box with him. As I did, the tracker on my wrist began to beep, loudly, but I wasn't paying much attention to that, because the inside of the box was…huge. It was warm, and alive, and I could almost feel the history and energy in every corner of the vast sparling room. My mind began to whirl, this was more advanced technology then I had seen at any of the major government bases. This man, this strange man knew who I was. He was perhaps my last chance.

The Doctor looked somewhat annoyed, but it was hard to tell his emotions under his glasses. He grabbed my shoulders and steered me out of the box, back into the cold, cramped hallways. Jack looked on, a slight smirk on his face, but he didn't intervene. The tracker stopped beeping the second we exited the box.

The Doctor leaned forward, and as he did, I heard a voice, his voice, speak in my head. '_I'll make you a deal.' _He began, _'If you can get out of this situation alone, I'll tell you everything you need to know. Call this a test.' _With that he let me go. "Bye." He said again, rather rudely, before taking a single step back into his box and closing the door in my face.

For a second, I just stared. He knew who I was. Then the bewilderment, confusion, and quite frankly anger kicked in.

The police box began to fade in and out of existence. It looked as if it were teleporting away. Nope, I was not going to let that happen.

"DOCTOR!" I yelled, throwing myself to the outside of the box and holding on tight.

The box didn't stop fading, but before I could go anywhere with it, I felt a hand grab my shirt collar and pull me back. Jack. I kicked against him but it was no use. My new body wasn't exactly equipped to fight. In an instant the box was gone, along with my chances to learn who I was.

"He, he, HE JUST LEFT!" I said, upset to say the least.

Jack let me go. "That's the Doctor for you." He sighed. He looked me over up and down, perhaps accessing if I posed any threat to him. From his expression, I figured, that he figured, that I wasn't a threat. This annoyed me. I was totally a threat! "How's this," he began, "if you wake Owen up, I'll call Gwen and ask her to bring food for us. We can discuss things over takeout."

"And if I refuse?" I said sharply, pulling away from Jack and crossing my arms like a petulant child.

"Then I'll put you in a holding cell." Jack shrugged.

My skin crawled at that. "Fine." I spat. I went to where Owen was and knelled by him, not taking my eyes off jack. I put one hand on Owen's forehead.

I could have done a lot of things to wake Owen up. I could have slowly guided him to the surface of his consciousness, helping him to feel awake and relaxed. I could have given him a quick command to wake up, which would be a bit jarring, sure, but nothing unpleasant. But I was upset, and I had a bad habit of taking things out on others when I was upset, especially since the body change.

I conveyed to him 2 simple words though Owen's thoughts. '_Stop breathing_.' For a second, he did, his low steady breaths stopped and he lied completely still. This went on for 10 seconds, and then, basic human instinct kicked in.

He gasped in for air, sitting up in a cold sweat and opening his eyes wide, immediately back in the world of the waking. I watched him as his breathing leveled out once more. He was awake, and in the end, that was all Jack had asked for.

"There." I said with a bitchy cadence to my words. I stood. "Can we go now?"

Jack helped Owen to his feet. Neither of the men looked all that happy with me. I didn't care. I needed to leave this place, now. Going quietly had been a terrible idea.

"Ya, we can go." Jack had a rare hint of irritation to his voice. "Owen, I'll meet you in the hub." He shooed a confused Owen from the hallway. "Rene, come with me." There was a darkness to his tone that was unsettling. He grabbed my hand. His impossible absoluteness washed over me. I felt dizzy.

He began guiding me away from the hub, into the depths of Torchwood.

I knew I was in trouble.

"Rene," jack began, "Did anyone tell you that playing with people like that is wrong?" Jack asked.

"Uh…there's been some debate on the issue." I began, wondering if I should pull my hand away, but feeling like that would make things worse. Instead I said, "Where are we going?"

"Well, you may not know this, but I have a daughter. And as a kid, when she acted up, I would send her to timeout."

I realized where he was going with this immediately. "I'm not a kid though!" I protested. "I'm nearly a century old!"

"Then act your age." Jack said flatly.

We walked through a gate and entered a hallway full of containment cells. I saw creatures sitting in corners of the cells. Some eyed me hungrily, other's seemed disillusioned by my presence. I felt trapped once more. Could I leave? In desperation I reached out to try and at least get a read on jack's mind, but he had shields up. His grip was strong. The hallways were underground and well-guarded.

We came to an empty cell and Jack walked me in. Was I shaking again?

"Timeout." Jack said simply before walking out of the cell and closing the door behind me. "I'll be back with food in a bit." He explained, from the other side of the door. "Think about what you've done, and maybe you can leave." With that, he walked away.

I stood in the center of the cell, shocked and embarrassed.

I had messed up.

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